Midnight Sun
by BtrixMcG
Summary: Wherein Brennan faces the most dreaded of horrors: jury duty. Our dashing hero, Seeley Booth saves her from this madness. Romance and smuttiness ensue.
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Temperance Brennan filled in the words "todiefor" in 8 across. She looked up from the crossword puzzle, scanning the faces of the court clerks, looking for some hint that the session would be starting soon. Jury duty for most people is a hassle, but for the busy Dr. Temperance Brennan it's nearly unbearable. The sitting around, the waiting, the idleness, made her crazy. If they would just get started, she thought, I'll easily be able to convince the judge that I need to go. She looked around, noticing the distinct lack of action on the part of the court staff and she sighed. Nothing yet.

She glanced back down at her crossword puzzle. The clue for 10-down read "Intimate Partners", 6 letters. That's an easy one, she thought, writing "L-O-V-E-R-S" in red ink, the only pen she had. Beside her, her cell phone buzzed with a text message. She looked around furtively and picked it up, half-hiding it in her handbag. She knew she wasn't supposed to have a phone in the courtroom, but she had convinced the court officer that her position at the Jeffersonian was of sufficient importance to warrant her keeping it with her at all times. She saw the message was from Booth. Ah ha, she thought. A case. This'll get me out of here quick.

Booth: WHERE ARE YOU? NEED YOU NOW. GOT A BODY.

Brennan texted back: You know where I am. I told you 5 times yesterday. Jury duty.

Booth: What?!

Brennan: Jury duty. My civic duty.

Booth: Yeah, yeah. Why are you still there? Haven't they released you yet? I'm coming down there.

Her grip on the phone tightened, DON'T, she texted, I'll be out of here in 20 minutes.

She flipped the phone closed and shoved it back into her bag. She blew her hair off her forehead and looked around. No use having Booth here now, she thought. He'd only make things worse. Probably get her assigned to something boring and really long like a tax evasion case. Actually, she thought, tax evasion could be interesting under the right set of circumstances. Focus, she thought to herself. Focus on getting out of here. She stood up, smoothing her skirt, working up a polite cough.

"Excuse me. Um, hello, Excuse me, Officer. "All the prospective jurors glanced up dazedly in her direction then looked away. A court officer wearily rose from his desk and made his way over to her, his eyes telling the same story he'd heard a thousand times. "Look Miss, you have to sit there until the judge is ready to question the jurors."

"I'm sorry," Brennan said, "It's just that I am late for a very important appointment. You see, I am a forensic anthropologist with the Jeff…"

"Yes, I know, "the officer said, "you've told me now 5 times. But I can't let you go. You aren't law enforcement and you aren't a medical doctor, so you stay. Now, pipe down. The judge will be here in a few minutes."

"Well, I am a doctor, "she said, sitting down, momentarily defeated.

"All rise," the clerk said a few minutes later.

The judge strode in, a trim older woman whose robe was too big for her, more like a child playing dress-up than an officer of the court. She sat down, shuffled through some paperwork and called the clerk to her desk. Brennan looked back down at the crossword puzzle. Looks like its going to be a while longer, she thought. 25 across -- partner of Bacall. Another easy one.

She looked up when she heard a commotion coming from outside the courtroom. Oh no, she thought. It couldn't be.

"Bones!" She heard what sounded like a scuffle going on outside the massive oak doors. She cringed. Booth. Well, I guess I'm ready to be assigned to that tax evasion case.

The judge looked up from her conversation with the clerk, "What on earth is going on out there?" A court officer strode out while the commotion outside continued. She heard something about "being in contempt" and "actual jail time" before the officer returned with Seeley Booth striding along behind him. Booth's eyes scanned the jury audience before zeroing in on Brennan. He smiled an especially wicked smile as he approached the bench.

"This man, "the officer stated hotly, "is from the FBI and is requesting the release of a one," he looked at the paper in his hand, "Dr. Temperance Brennan, his partner, to assist in a homicide investigation." He handed something to the judge who looked over it.

"Dr. Brennan, please approach the bench." Brennan scooted out of the aisle, all eyes on the slim brunette with the unapproachable air.

The judge continued, "Dr. Brennan, I suppose you know this man." Brennan took a sideways glance at Booth, who continued to grin at her.

"Yes, your honor, he is my partner and probably needs me for the identification of a body suspected in foul play."

The judge eyed Booth and Brennan. "You," she pointed at Booth, "will never come in my courtroom or any other courtroom in that manner again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'm," Booth replied.

"Dr. Brennan, you have approximately 24 hours to complete this body identification and report back here for duty."

"But your honor," Dr. Brennan protested.

"But nothing," the judge continued, "I notice you have deferred jury duty approximately 4 times. Time to pay the piper, Dr. Brennan. You are not automatically excused from jury duty any more than the rest of the hardworking people sitting behind you." Brennan glanced over her shoulder at the jurors, hostility and jealousy evident on their faces.

"You may go. See you tomorrow."

Booth took Brennan by the arm and quickly led her out of the courtroom. "Nice going, Bones, what'd ya do, talk some of that squint talk to the judge? You really ticked her off".

"What? No. I didn't say a word to her."

They headed out to Booth's SUV.

"I've got a body," Booth said as he pulled out of the parking log, "found in a shallow grave at a rest stop south of town. Dead maybe a few days. Lots of meat still left on it."

"Why was I called then? I work with bones, not cadavers."

"Apparently there are bone fragments found with the body that are not related," Booth replied, leaning over to turn on the radio. "Mind if we listen to the game? It's the final four."

"I don't mind. What's a final four?"

"It's the basketball playoffs. The final four teams compete for the championship," he said, then chuckled. "But why I am I bothering to explain this to you? You think sports are for overgrown adolescents."

"Yes, while I do think sports are a way for grown men to work through childish impulses of power and control, basketball itself is a very beautiful sport in the execution."

Booth looked at her, "Well, that's nice to hear from you Bones," he replied, "it is a beautiful thing to watch." He shifted his eyes between her and the road.

She ignored his gaze and turned her head to look out of the window. It was a beautiful spring day. She watched the bright green of new growth blooming outside her window. "Something's wrong," he said, looking over at her, "I can always tell when something is wrong with my Bones." He smiled one of his big goofy grins, but behind his sparkling eyes she could tell he was being serious.

"No", she said, keeping her eyes on the passing scenery. Her shoulders rose, then fell abruptly. She turned to him, "Well, yes, actually, there is something wrong. I'm perfectly capable of getting myself out of jury duty. I don't need you running to the rescue every 5 minutes."

His face fell, "Oh, I didn't mean…"

"Normally I allow you these moments of alpha-male behavior because I know how important it is for you to take care of your partner and those you care about, but really, Booth…jury duty? I needed saving from jury duty?"

He ran a hand through his hair, "Sorry Bones, it's just this case…I was anxious to get you out of there. I thought you could use a hand."

"It's OK." She looked away again, it obviously wasn't OK. A heavy silence fell over them.

Booth bit his lip, started to say something, then thought better of it. Something was obviously bothering her, but was it really him and his clunky extraction of her from the courtroom? He leaned over to the radio, changing the dial, stopping on an oldies station playing a more obscure Ella Fitzgerald tune, "Midnight Sun".

"I love this song," Booth declared, singing along loudly,

_Your lips were like a red and ruby chalice  
Warmer than a summer's night  
Your eyes were like an alabaster palace  
Rising to a snowy height  
Each star its own aurora borealis  
Suddenly you held me tight  
I could see the midnight sun_

She looked over at him. "I don't understand this song," she said, "There is no such thing as a midnight sun. Perhaps they are referring to the moon?" Her face was scrunched up in confusion.

"It's a metaphor Bones. I think it refers to the feeling you get when you are in love, the feeling of the two of you being bathed in the beautiful light of the stars. "

"Oh," she said distractedly, feeling embarrassed, "Of course, a metaphor."

"Is everything alright?"

"What? Yes, yes, everything's fine."

It appeared to Booth that things were far from fine, but he decided not to push her too far. She was the one who broke the silence.

"It's just that…I've never had that feeling really."

"What feeling?"

"The midnight sun feeling. Of feeling bathed in starlight together. Would that be your definition of love?"

"Most definitely, Bones", he said, "It's a feeling like you are the only two people on the planet, that no one exists besides the two of you, that you are like stars in the heavens circling each other, radiating light."

"Each star its own aurora borealis?"

"Exactly", Booth hit the steering wheel with his palm.

"Have you ever felt that way?" she asked.

"I thought I had it with Parker's mom in the beginning. Haven't you?"

Brennan looked away again and Booth knew the nerve he had touched. "Have you ever been in love, Bones?" he asked quietly.

She answered matter-of-factly, "There have been instances when my biological urges and intellectual needs have been met with such satisfaction that I've been very enamored of certain individuals, is that what you mean?"

Booth stopped at a light. "No, Bones," he said curtly. "I mean love. L-o-v-e. The kind of feeling that two people have together that causes you to sit up nights worrying if the person doesn't come home in time." He leaned over to her. "The feeling of wanting to spend every minute with the other person, regardless of their mood or your mood, or the universe's mood. Love. The whole thing. Of being so vulnerable to another human being, that you feel naked all the time. That feeling Bones. Real love. True love." His face was a few inches from hers and his breath was rapid from talking so fast. She looked at him intently not flinching from his closeness. His breath smells nice, she thought. She looked down briefly. He has nice hands too. She looked back up into his eyes and saw something, for a brief moment, which she had never seen before. He looked past her eyes, further down, like he was reaching into her chest to pull out her heart to take a good look at it to make sure it was healthy, that it was okay.

He straightened back up. The light changed. Her eyes were glued on him as he continued driving. The air in the car was nearly gone, with it came the silence, filling the space like the fading wind after a storm.

Love, she thought with panic. I've never been in love. No wait, she thought. Booth is simply being romantic. 'A' romantic, she corrected herself internally. He wasn't being romantic to me; he was being "a romantic", a lover of love, as it were. She relaxed as her mind backtracked to a more familiar cadence, the rhythm of critical thought.

"We're here," he said, pulling off the highway to a rest area south of DC. Fire engines and police cars blanketed the scene. The FBI and emergency teams swarmed around them as they inched into the fray.

Brennan looked at Booth again. He seemed to be deep in thought. "Ready?" she said.

"Yeah, I'm ready. As ready as I ever am for this stuff." He brightened a little as he turned off the engine. "Ready yourself?"

"Yes".

"Good. Let's go knock this one out and get you back to jury duty, whattdaya say?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me." She hopped out of the truck and slammed the door.

He watched her for a moment, walking away from the car, his mind far away, hiding his thoughts, even to himself. He picked up his sunglasses, tipped them onto the bridge of his nose and then stepped out into the chaos with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Brennan glanced at the clock. 9:30 PM. If she was a regular human being, she'd be at home, watching mindless television or reading a mindless novel. Much like the one I'm turning to write now, she thought. Her mind had been on the rest stop case all day; they had identified the body, and had located an estranged wife. This was her first chance to write. She tried to write daily, sometimes getting up at 3 AM and writing for 3 hours before heading to work. Luckily, she didn't need much sleep, but the late nights of bones and the early mornings of writing were getting to her. However, there was something she wanted to get down before turning back to the investigation. She opened the file marked, 'Untitled Novel #7' and began writing.

She didn't hear Booth duck in. He didn't mean to be so stealthy, but when he cleared his throat directly behind her, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Booth! You scared the bejesus out of me."

"Sorry about that Bones," he leaned in to read the computer screen, "So, whatcha doin'?"

She closed the program with a quick keystroke. "Writing my next book, which you are not allowed to read before being published, and certainly are not allowed to read over my shoulder while I'm writing it."

"Like the part I just read about how Kathy doesn't believe in true love?" Booth's eyes twinkled, "Where on earth would you have ever dreamed up that conversation?" He moved to the couch and plopped down, stretching his long legs in front of him.

"Ha ha." Brennan replied curtly, "I'm not discussing this with you." She shuffled the papers on her desk, looking for a report.

"Why? Maybe I can help you. You know, find true love." He chuckled, putting his hands behind his head, stretching out even further.

Brennan face flamed with fury. She rose with report in hand. "I have work to do Booth, so unless you have something pertinent to the ongoing investigation, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get back to it." She marched briskly to the door, a clear sign she expected him to leave.

He ignored her, shifting on the couch to lie down flat, "But you aren't working on the case, you're writing your book, which I must say, needs a bit of a reality check if you're going to let your main character shut herself out like that." He closed his eyes and settled into the couch. "I'm just saying."

That's it, she thought. She marched over to the couch and stood glaring at him until he cracked opened an eye. "You do not tell me how to write my book, Seeley Booth," her voice rose along with her temper, "I am a best-selling author who knows a thing or two about plot and character development."

"Granted, but in truth, you're hiding, and you know it," he sat up abruptly, looking up at her intently, "you're just trying to figure this whole true love thing out for yourself, so you're making your character do it for you. I have no problem with that. As long as you know it does exist."

"What does?"

He stood, facing her. "True love, Bones. It exists."

"Booth, please don't get so romantic. Love is nothing but a biological response to sexual satisfaction and a feeling of security. Couples end up staying together to fulfill childcare responsibilities or to protect each other from the outside world. The romantic feeling goes away at some point and is replaced by a feeling of familiarity and family tribalism. Nothing more." She stood inches away from him, and was suddenly aware of the body beneath his clothes, how he radiated heat and physical strength. He had never seemed especially tall to her, but now he seemed to tower over her, his shoulders broader than she remembered. He seems built for sex, she thought. A perfect specimen of the male human body. Suddenly she felt warm all over, like she was getting a fever. As she shifted her weight from one foot to the other she noticed a certain slipperiness in her nether regions. What's going on? Oh, I get it. I just thought about how he's built for sex, and then my body responds. That must be it. She didn't let her thoughts go further.

He leaned in slightly, "Bones, I..."

Her cell phone rang, interrupting him. She raced to her desk to pick it up. "Right. Ok. Are you sure? He's here. I'll tell him." She hung up and turned to Booth, "Remember the wife, with the airtight alibi? Well, the imprint of the diamond on her engagement ring matches the markings on the bone. She's the murderer."

"Speaking of true love, time to pay a visit to the ol' ball and chain, huh?"

"Guess so." Brennan grabbed her bag and followed Booth out, thankful the conversation had changed course back to something more familiar. He smiled sideways at her as they walked through the hallway, as though thinking something he couldn't or wouldn't express.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think we got her," Booth said as he pulled up in front of Brennan's apartment, "she can hide behind her attorney, but we got

"I think we got her," Booth said as he pulled up in front of Brennan's apartment, "she can hide behind her attorney, but we got her dead to rights. Good work Bones."

She smiled good-naturedly, "Why thank you Booth. Good work yourself," she looked at her watch. "Oh boy, 2:30 AM. I had no idea it would take so long to track her down. I'm beat. And to think I was going to get up at three and write. Dream on."

She put her hand on the door handle then stopped, "Don't we usually celebrate the ends of cases with drinks or pie or something? I think I have some scotch lying around, if you want to come up for a drink."

"I thought you were beat."

"One drink won't kill me. Or you either."

"Ok, let me park and I'll meet you upstairs in five."

He pulled away and she turned to let herself into the building. As her key went in the lock she thought to herself, is this a good idea? Bringing Seeley up in the middle of the night? It's just one drink, the other part of her brain told her. One drink and you're in bed by 3. 3:30 tops.

Once upstairs she dropped her bag on the foyer table and quickly looked in the mirror. Not bad for the wee hours. She smoothed her hair a bit and straightened her blouse. She collected the scotch and two glasses as Booth knocked on the door. "It's open," she yelled.

He came in shaking his head, "Why is it open? Don't you know there are dangerous people out there?"

She ignored him, handed him a glass and poured him two-fingers of scotch. "You like it straight up, right? I need a little ice in mine. Have a seat, I'll be right back." He sat down on the couch while she walked to the fridge and plopped two ice cubes in her drink. The fridge. The refrigerator that almost killed Seeley, she thought. How many times has he risked his life for her? Another thought occurred to her, why was she suddenly referring to him as Seely and not Booth? Strange.

She headed back into the living room, kicking off her shoes. "These shoes are fabulous, but not for 18 hours. My feet are killing me." She plopped down in the chair across from Booth and began to massage her own feet. "You know, I think the wife might be able to get off in court, she looks pretty devious to me, who knows what she's got cooked up..."

As she trailed on, he watched her rub her feet awkwardly, in an uncomfortable looking position. "Come over here Bones. I'll rub your feet. You look like you're going to sprain your back."

"What? No, I'm fine." She stopped the foot rubbing and straightened up.

"It's ok, Bones, no hanky panky, just a foot massage. I'm pretty good at those, if I do say so myself."

She bit the corner of her mouth, trying to decide, "Ok, but only 5 minutes. That's more than I can ask anyone to do, let alone my partner."

She moved over to the couch and put her feet in front of him arranging her skirt modestly. "Lie back," he said, "might as well enjoy this." She felt robotic, but she did as she was told. She felt compelled to listen to him. Maybe she was just tired. It was, in fact, the middle of the night.

She arranged the pillow under her head and took a big breath out, trying to relax. She decided to keep her eyes closed. That way, she told herself, she'd have better luck ignoring the fact that this was Seeley Booth, her partner, whom some may describe as "hunky", rubbing her feet. Pretend it's a professional masseuse.

It nearly was. As soon as his fingers grasped the souls of her feet she almost let out an audible sigh.

He began to massage firmly, yet gently, all along her feet, from the tops of her toes to her aching heels. He rubbed each toe between his fingers then popped them releasing all the stress from the day. He rotated her ankles, then stroked her Achilles tendon, electricity shooting up through her legs into her whole body. Her belly felt warm and full, her whole insides vibrated with pleasure. She was very close to melting into puddle on the couch.

"Oooh, you're good," she purred, eyes still firmly closed. Forgetting herself for a moment, she scrunched up closer to him, placing her lower legs on his thighs, "Can you do my shins too? They hurt the worst."

There was a pause. For a moment, she wasn't sure if he would continue or make an excuse to stop, or if she'd really let him touch her legs, but then he circled a calf with his warm palms and she knew she was lost. He began to knead gently, then with more force as he stroked her shins up and down. She let out a low moan of approval. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the little noises emanating from the sexy nymph lying halfway over him. He dug into her knees with his knuckles, massaging intently, then began to stroke the back of her knees. He opened his eyes, taking in her smooth legs, the inch of belly exposed below her shirt, her hair splayed out, trailing over the end of the couch. His fingers, unbidden, inched up past her knees, her skirt riding up slightly as her hips shifted. As though he couldn't stop himself, his hands moved up her shapely legs, just above her knees, gently stroking. Her eyes, smoky and sensual, opened onto his. His eyes were dark as he looked back at her, desire nearly pouring over. She sat up on her elbows, her eyes fixed on him, her passion clear. He shifted towards her, half-lying on her now, heat and electricity coursing through them. Their eyes locked as he moved nearer. He paused, looking down at her lips then back up again into her eyes. His eyes flickered.

Brennan arched into him; her lips met his tenderly, as if he were a fragile thing she might break. He leaned into her and the kiss deepened, their mouths hungrily tasting each other, their tongues intertwined. This was no kiss under the mistletoe. His hands found their way to her hair, knotting his fingers in it, pulling her in even closer. Her hands circled his back, stretching over his broad shoulders. He shifted again and suddenly they were lying side by side on the couch, her legs wrapping around his. Their eyes remained open, they hardly breathed, neither one wanting to break the spell they were under. He moved a hand to her torso under her blouse, arching his palm just under her breast. She gasped into his mouth and he groaned. Unbeknownst to them, their bodies had begun to sway together in an ancient rhythm.

She felt him hard and hot against her leg, and she moved against him slightly, leaning in and suddenly he was between her legs, his cock straining against her panties and bunched up skirt. His fingers gently grazed her nipple through the lace of the bra. She gasped. They were nearly delirious with desire. Their mouths were fused together now, their bodies in an unbroken rhythm of desire and want.

She reached down, unzipping him, finding his cock through the boxers. He was bigger than she expected and touching him suffused her whole body with raging need. She couldn't wait any longer. With her other hand she tugged her panties to one side and placed him at her opening. They remained suspended there for a moment, his eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt. He inched into her, lingering at the hilt, before pulling out slightly to surge into her again

In total silence, they melded together like two pieces of molten metal. He groaned into her mouth and began to move in her, causing her to growl, opening her legs further, pulling him in deeper. He drover into her over and over, his hands everywhere, on her breasts, on her thighs, under her bottom, pushing her further into him, his mouth never leaving hers. Their eyes never closed.

They urged each other on, their bodies writhing and tearing at each other as if trying to pull each other apart until she cried out in passion, an orgasm pushing her further and further into the abyss. He continued to drive relentless into her, her body cascading onto his in waves, her orgasms mounting in rapid succession. "Seeley!" she cried out and with that one word, he exploded into her and with his eyes still locked on hers, he cried out her given name. He rocked into her over and over until exhaustion overcame him and he collapsed onto her. Her legs wrapped around him pulling him in closer. He whispered into her hair something she couldn't hear.

And as if it had all been too much for them, they drifted into a deep sleep wrapped tightly around each other on the couch, him still inside her, her legs circling his, their hands intertwined.


	4. Chapter 4

First, she felt a heavy weight and thought maybe she was trapped in the bed covers, then she felt him shift to give her more ro

First, she felt a heavy weight and thought maybe she was trapped in the bed covers, then she felt him shift to give her more room. Her eyes flew open and the bright light of the morning sun momentarily blinded her through the windows. Booth was tangled around her, half-lying on her, his face pressed against the side of her head, still sound asleep. She lay still, frozen, not sure what to do. She moved her head slightly and looked at him. He stirred, moving his lips from her hair to her temple, murmuring softly, still sleeping, his hips gently starting to rock against her. One hand, which was curled around her arm, moved to her torso and began the slow rise to her breast. She took a breath in and held it. He stopped. His eyes popped open and he looked at her, startled.

"Bones? Oh my God."

They quickly flew apart, tucking and covering the soft bits of themselves, shamefully noting they were still fully clothed. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, unable to look at each other. The stillness hung between them and with it dank air of the previous night's sex. It was unmistakable what they had done. There would be no denying it to anyone. Angela will know in 2 seconds, Brennan thought with panic. And Booth, he'll know too! Because he was there! Of course, he'll know, he was partner in the same crime! Oh my God, I slept with my partner, her brain whirled. OK, calm down, she told herself with a big breath. It's just sex. You're making much too big a deal of it. As the rational part of her brain took over, she started to feel better. Best to treat this like an accident, something that just happened. Doesn't mean it ever has to happen again. Things can go back to just the way they were before.

And with that thought, she rose and headed to the kitchen calling out, "You want coffee? I'll put some on then I'll jump in the shower. You can go after, if you like."

"Bones. I mean Temperance, don't you think we should talk about this for a minute?"

She turned around halfway to the kitchen and looked at him. He sat on the couch, looking dazed and rumpled, completely gorgeous. No gorgeous thoughts, she told herself. Banish! Banish them! She held out her hands, "Look Booth, it just happened. Sex between two adults is normal, especially two people who spend so much time together. There is no reason it has to affect our partnership in the slightest. We'll just pretend..."

"Pretend it never happened? Is that what you're saying?" His voice rose slightly, and he stood up from the couch pulling himself up to his full height. His eyes grew dark, his thoughts unclear.

"Well, it happened, we can't deny that. But we have to compartmentalize. We're work partners first, so let's just get the day going, shall we?" she said with false brightness. She turned to walk to the kitchen.

"So this will never happen again?" he said quietly.

"Never," she whispered hoarsely, flying past the kitchen to the safety of the bedroom where she closed the door and barricaded herself against it.


	5. Chapter 5

Fifteen minutes later, Brennan stepped out of the bedroom, freshly showered and changed

Fifteen minutes later, Brennan stepped out of the bedroom, freshly showered and changed. Booth was sitting at the dining room table, coffee in hand, looking out the wide expanse of window to the city below. He seemed to be deep in thought, but looked up and smiled when she came out. "I think I should head home and change," he said, "I can drop you by the courthouse on the way."

"Oh, right. Jury duty. Forgot about that," she said intentionally distracted. "Let me just gather my things." She bustled around more than she needed to, filling the space with her busyness. He stood, looking at her the whole time, and then he quietly moved to the door, keys in hand.

"Ok, ready," she said, moving behind him. He opened the front door and stood aside to let her through. She placed a hand on his arm. "Is everything going to be ok, Seeley?" At the mention of his first name, his eyes closed briefly then reopened. Then his mood shifted visibly and he brightened, "Of course Bones. We'll just be professional."

If she had to admit it, her heart fell a little in her chest when he said that. What was she expecting? she thought, moving past him to the elevator. This is what she said she wanted. To go back to being partners, just friends. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she pressed the elevator button. What is wrong with me? She stepped into the waiting elevator with Booth and kept her face averted until she felt more in control of herself. The ride down was tense and quiet, but mercifully short.

Once in the car, out of the apartment, they both relaxed a little. Here was a comfortable environment with no smell of sex, no rumpled pillows or hair. A safe, familiar place. She began to chat with him nervously, trying to remember the case from the night before, all the details they might have forgotten, anything to fill the three feet of silence and tension between them. He just nodded, threw in a "uh-huh" occasionally, but she could tell he was a million miles away.

Luckily there was little traffic and they made it to the courthouse in record time. He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He turned to her, words forming in his mouth that he bit back. "Have a nice day," he spit out instead, visibly uncomfortable.

"You too." She couldn't move a muscle.

She grabbed her bag and turned to him to say something. He leapt across the space in a millisecond and fused his mouth onto hers, inhaling her completely. Her hands went up into his already rumpled hair pulling him in closer. They broke apart, panting, eying each other from across the car.

"I...I gotta go." She jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She stood on the sidewalk, dazed and troubled, as he sat in the car looking at her. She pulled herself together and put on her mask of professionalism. She smiled grimly and gave a short little wave as he put the car into gear and pulled away. As his car pull out of the parking lot, her face fell, and she felt like a part of her body was being torn off and dragged behind the car.

She turned to go into the courthouse and stopped. She felt weird. Like she was under a spell. She had a sharp intake of breath as she realized that she felt like she was in his orbit, circling him like the moon circles the earth.

Like the stars in the heavens, circling each other. Radiating light.


	6. Chapter 6

Midnight Sun Chapter 6

Brennan sat back in her chair, eyes on the monitor in front of her, ignoring her lunch, and the office phone blinking "messages". I can't wait to be finished with this novel, she thought. It's been the hardest one yet to write. The relationship between Kathy and Andy had blossomed over the course of the story only to be thwarted by a sudden tragedy at the end. Brennan had agonized over the ending, but in the telling of the story, it was the only logical conclusion. She was on her final edit after very little sleep the night before. She was ahead of deadline, as usual, but an internal deadline was urging her to get the book out to the publisher before she could change her mind about the contents of the plot.

She turned to her sandwich, absentmindedly picking at it, ignoring the bread, taking the chicken out of the middle, tearing it apart with her fingers. Andy. Booth. She tried so hard to separate the two, but is there really much of a difference? Both are handsome FBI agents, both are partners of Kathy/Temperance, and she's in love with both of them. No, she corrects herself quickly. I am not in love with Seeley Booth. Kathy may be madly in love with Andy, and perhaps I'm infatuated with Booth due to our closeness a few months ago, but that part of our relationship is over. We're just partners, and friends. And something else, her brain whispered, but she shook her head, trying to clear out unwanted thoughts and return to the present.

She toggled to her email and saw there was a message from Booth. Her heart skipped a bit and she willed it to calm down. How long is it going to take for the mere mention of his name or the sound of his voice cease to throw me? she wondered.

Booth's note was short and to the point: "The PBA has asked if we'll present one of the Medal of Valor awards at an event scheduled for two weeks from tonight. Are we in?"

Brennan quickly replied with yes and hit send. She returned to editing the document on her desktop. In the months since the incident, they had definitely proven themselves professionals. They had managed to put the whole sex thing behind them and to treat each other much the same as before. The one exception, of course, was the extremely awkward conversation they had shortly after that night.

_"I didn't mean to..." Booth said._

_"I know," Brennan replied quickly, "It just happened. It's ok. We just need to put it behind us." She tried not to look in his eyes. They sat in their regular booth at the Royal Diner, uneaten cheeseburgers in front of them._

_Booth's composure fell for a moment before he picked it up again. "I just need to know," he stammered, "are you on birth control or anything? I mean..." his face flushed, "we were very reckless."_

_"Yes, of course," Brennan replied, "I'm on the pill. No need to worry. No pregnancy, no STDs. Totally clean." She smoothed her napkin into her lap._

_"Oh, ok..." Booth said, "Me too. About the STDs, not the pregnancy." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. _

_"Great!" she said a little too brightly, "Now we can just go back to being friends and partners." She thrust out her hand. _

_"You got it," he replied briskly, taking her hand. They both tried to ignore the electricity radiating between them at the moment of their touching._

That was the last time they had touched each other, she thought. They'd managed to avoid it entirely, giving each other plenty of room to pass in the hallway, never shaking hands. The only place they were ever alone together was in Booth's SUV where they managed to avoid speaking on a personal level. In the last few weeks, she had barely heard from him. They still attended sessions with Dr. Sweets, who had noticed a tension between them, but like true partners they never gave each other up. Acting like it never happened was easier than they thought it would be.

And yet. The dreams. Each night her dreams were vivid explorations of what-ifs with Booth. She'd explored every inch of his body in every environment imaginable. She couldn't count the amount of times she had awoken in full orgasm, fingering her clit furiously, her subconscious still enveloped in the sex scenario, whether it be in his bathtub, in her shower, on the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen table, at a museum, the movies, at work, in an airplane and once even, in an abandoned church. In her dreams she was insatiable; only he could tame her. He was like a magnificent beast, charging at her, running her over, taking her completely.

She sighed heavily. It was so hard to put him out of her mind once she started thinking of him. Purposefully shifting her focus, she reached out to touch the roses in a vase on her desk. Think of Scott, she told herself, the man you're dating.

As if summoned, a familiar voice surprised her from behind. "Hi Temperance? Is this a good time?"

Brennan jumped a good two inches off her chair. "You scared the hell out of me Scott." He was standing right behind her chair. I have to move my desk where I can see who's coming in, she thought. This is the second time I've been taken off guard. She spied her novel on the screen and glanced at Scott. "You didn't happen to read any of this over my shoulder, did you?"

"What? No way, if there is one thing I know for sure, it's not to bother Temperance Brennan while she's writing. I would never be so bold to read something you've written without permission." He smiled at her good-naturedly. He leaned down and pecked her cheek. "I brought you a sandwich," he said, "but I see you already have one." He crossed over to the front of the desk to an office chair and sat down.

Scott Anderson was what some might call the "perfect man". He was almost as tall as Booth, broad shoulders, very athletic, and nearly as smart as she was. He was a tenured professor at Georgetown University in linguistics. He was funny, well-read, honest, and down-to-earth.

Brennan should have been crazy about him, but she had yet to sleep with him, had a hard time concentrating on him when he was around, and generally kept him at arm's length. He hadn't noticed. He was obviously crazy about her and thought she was going slow to keep the mystery alive. They had only been dating for a month, but he acted like she was the love of his life.

"How's is Temperance doing today?" He frequently spoke to her in the third person, which irritated her slightly.

"I'm fine," she lied, "just finishing up the last edit of the novel. I'm sending it to my publisher tonight, no matter what. Then I'm going home, taking a long bath and going to bed."

His face fell. "Oh." he said tentatively, "Did you forget we had plans for dinner at Palena?"

Her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh, yes! I did forget!" She jumped out of her chair and came around to the other side of the desk. "We made the reservations so long ago I forgot all about it. Of course we'll go." She sat on the edge of the desk, feeling stiff.

He leaned in and took her hand, "Are you sure? If you're too tired we could reschedule."

That was Scott, she thought, always thoughtful and attentive. "No, it's fine," she said quickly before she could change her mind, "I've been dying to try this place. Pick me up here at seven? "

"Sure." Scott stood then leaned over to place an awkward kiss on her cheek. Brennan didn't move or respond. "See you tonight," he said.

After he left, Brennan plopped down in the chair he was sitting in. She was too exhausted to even think right now. Maybe it would be better to head home now and try to get in a nap before dinner. Things were at a lull at the Jeffersonian, so that might be possible. But the novel, her brain urged her, you must finish this edit.

She sighed a deep weary sigh and moved back over to her desk to immerse herself in the world of Kathy and Andy again. Once this novel is finished I'll feel better, she told herself. Maybe I'll stop thinking about Booth so much. She took another bite of sandwich and washed it down with a sip of water. She focused her eyes on the screen and began again.


	7. Chapter 7

Brennan tugged at the fabric around her bust trying to get it to cover her more completely. "Ange, are you sure I should wear this dress? It's very revealing, perhaps more than is needed at a Policeman's Ball function."

"Sweetie, are you kidding? You look fabulous." Angela said, nodding her head in approval. Brennan twirled around on the dressing room platform, watching the wisteria silk rustle around her legs. An empire waist held up a wide halter top and a daring plunge in the back. It was one of the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen. She rarely thought about clothes, but when she and Angela went shopping for the black-tie function, the dress nearly jumped off the hanger at both of them.

"You should wear your hair up, it's more formal. Also, no necklace, except earrings. I probably have something you can borrow."

"Why no necklace? Brennan asked, "You know I have lots of antique pieces that may look good with this."

Angela stood behind her looking into the mirror. "The jewel that goes with this dress is you," she said, "With your hair up and evening makeup you'll be irresistible."

Brennan took a big breath, "Yes, I hope Scott likes it."

Angela made a face. "I'm not talking about Scott. I'm talking about Booth. This dress is going to knock him out."

Brennan moved away from the mirror for the dressing room, calling out, "That's not my intention Angela, and you know it." She closed the dressing room door behind her, a frown marring her expression.

"You can fool everyone else, and maybe even Booth, but you can't fool me." Angela sat down on a nearby couch, examining her fingernails. "Why are you bringing Scott anyway? I thought you decided you didn't like him."

"He's very nice," Brennan called out from the dressing room, "I'm not sure I don't like him."

Angela rolled her eyes, "How long have you been dating him?"

"A little over six weeks."

"And you have yet to sleep with him? It seems crystal clear to me."

Brennan stepped out in her street clothes with the gown draped over her arm. She made a face. "Angela, just because I told you what happened between me and Booth doesn't mean I expect you to bring it up every time you see a chance."

Angela followed her out of the fitting room, "Sorry. I just think you two should be together, that's all. It seems obvious to everyone, you've told me yourself the sex was out-of-this-world-good. What's the holdup?"

Brennan stopped and looked at her friend, her demeanor turning serious. "We're partners. We broke a trust by sleeping together. We'll be lucky if we can get out of this with our friendship and partnership intact."

"Bfft," Angela said waving her hand dismissively. "You're just limiting yourself."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?"

Angela nodded firmly, "No problem." She made the sign of zipping lips. "You'll be stunning...for someone."

*********

The forensic staff at the Jeffersonian wasn't normally asked to attend the annual Police Benevolent Association's Gala and Awards ceremony, but since the institution had been so essential to the FBI's homicide investigations of late, and one of their members was presenting, it was deemed important that all members attend. So in addition to Brennan and her date, Angela, Hodgins, Cam, and a new intern named Paul were required to attend. Angela brought Dr. Sweets at his urging, and her insistence he tell everyone he was not on a date with her. She wore a black skin-tight Badgley Mischka strapless gown with silver lame pumps. She felt she looked too good to be with Sweets. Hodgins came alone, ignoring the black tie request, dressed in a Hugo Boss pin stripped suit with no tie. The suit and his devil-may-care attitude made him look especially good to Angela, who eyed him appreciately. Cam looked fabulous, as always, in navy vintage Channel. Paul, the new intern, was visibly uncomfortable in his tuxedo, he tugged at the collar and looked like he was going to choke to death the whole evening.

Brennan met Scott in the lobby. He looked rather dashing his tuxedo, and Brennan felt another stab of guilt at not liking him more. He raved about her dress, making her spin around several times so he could admire her further. She had taken Angela's advice and only worn a pair of drop pearl earrings that dangled almost to her shoulders. Her hair was swept up in a messy updo, her eyeliner smoky and heavy, her lips pale to match the dress. The best part, besides the dress, she thought, was the shoes. She had found them right after purchasing the dress and they made her feel totally glamorous. They were peek-a-boo pumps in metallic silver. In the shoes she was almost as tall as Scott. She leaned into him, giving him a soft peck on the mouth. "Thanks for coming," she said shyly, "We don't have to stay long, really. Just time for Booth and I to present the award then we can get out of here."

"No way," Scott said. "I want at least one dance." He took her hand and led her through the massive oak doors into the ballroom. The crowd was enormous, at least 500 people and as she surveyed the room, she began to grow nervous about presenting. She could speak knowledgeably to large groups on all subjects related to forensic investigations, but she'd never been so scantily clad while doing it. They made their way over to their table and made their hellos to her colleagues. Dr. Sweets looked uncomfortable parked in between Angela and Hodgins. Hodgins was looking dour, it was obvious from his demeanor that he didn't believe the two people to his side were not out on a date. Cam was deep in conversation with Paul, but she looked up and nodded approvingly at Brennan's choice of gown. Brennan stood next to the table while Scott chatted with Angela. She scanned the room for Booth.

He saw her before she saw him. She felt eyes on her and she turned around in the direction of the stage. Booth was walking towards her, alone, his eyes locked on her. Her breath caught in her throat slightly. She had never seen him look so handsome. Black tie suited him. The tuxedo was perfectly cut, his broad shoulders making a handsome silhouette with the stage lights behind him. When she saw him looking at her, he didn't smile or acknowledge her, but instead he headed straight for her like he wanted to say something important to her. He walked up to her, taking her hand, holding it out. "You look...," his eyes traveled the length of her body, "so amazing." She blushed, turning slightly to reveal the plunging back. He devoured her with his eyes, taking in every inch of her. Then he seemed to remember where he was and who he was with, and he broke out into his trademark grin. He turned to everyone else. "Who knew Bones would clean up so well?"

They took their seats as the lights started to lower. After some furtive whispering Angela ascertained that Booth had come alone. Brennan felt a lump in her throat and sneaked a peek at Booth across the table. He was talking to Scott about ocean kayaking, laughing at Scott's stories of his humiliating defeat at the hands of Mother Nature.

After the second award, Booth and Brennan rose discreetly and headed backstage to wait for their moment to present. They stood, side by side in the wings, watching the bustling of the busy stagehands. The backstage was small and crowded so Booth and Brennan stepped closer to each other to give people room to pass.

"Look Bones, I wanted to say I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately," Booth whispered. His eyes were gentle, searching hers for some kind of connection. He moved again slightly to let a presenter pass.

"I'm sorry too," Brennan replied, stepping with him. "I don't want to hurt you or destroy this partnership. You mean too much to me." Her eyes were wide and trusting, she was telling him much more than her words did.

The stage manager strode by. "You gotta move in," she said to Booth, "you're taking up too much room." She shoved him behind Brennan. "Stay there and don't get in the way." She walked away brusquely.

Applause took Brennan's attention to the stage. The next pair of presenters went out from the far wings. They were next. She could feel Booth standing behind her, feel the heat radiating off him. She could feel his breath on her neck and could feel his eyes travel down her spine to the plunging back of her dress. Suddenly she felt the light touch of a finger tracing the outline. Her skin sizzled as his finger traveled the width of her back. Her heart beat so loudly she could barely hear what was going on onstage. He stopped abruptly and took a step back from her. "Sorry," he whispered, "I couldn't help myself."

Her entire body was humming as she wondered what to do next. She felt under a spell, hardly able to move, so she took a small step back and relaxed herself against his frame. Desire flushed through her body as she felt he was already hard against her. He groaned, moving a hand up and around her waist holding her tighter to him. Her nipples hardened and her breath quickened as he lowered his mouth to her shoulder. His lips set fire to her frame and she worried she might explode moments before going onstage. Loud laughter and applause woke them from their reverie and they parted abruptly. She wanted to look at him, but couldn't if she wanted to go out on stage in less than a minute.

"I can't deny it anymore Temperance," he whispered, stepping closer to her again. "I want you more than I've wanted any other woman I've ever met."

She looked back over her shoulder, her smoky eyes full of want. "Booth, I..."

A voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "Our next presenters are a veritable crime fighting duo. I'm pleased to present Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian Institute and her partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI."

Booth stepped back and taking Brennan's hand, he smiled broadly at her. "Nothing like bad timing, huh?" They walked hand in hand out onto the stage. Almost like we're together, she thought. Her heart surged at the thought. They both smiled madly as if the award they were presenting was the biggest honor they had ever been given.

It was clear to all present, onstage and off, that Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan made a stunning couple.

*****

The PBA ball had surprisingly hip music for what would seem like a Lawrence Welk crowd. The Jeffersonian team that assumed they would be heading out the door at the first sign of a waltz was surprised to hear Madonna's "Live to Tell" as the evening's opener. Dinner was served, coffee poured and all the members of the team took turns dancing. All except Booth with Brennan and Angela with Hodgins. Brennan was relieved Booth didn't ask her to dance, as it would have been apparent to everyone at the ball what was going on between them. Just make sure you don't touch him, she thought. As long as our bodies don't make contact, we'll be ok.

However, she felt his eyes on her all night, especially whenever she danced with Scott. And she could see Angela watch Booth. I'm going to have more explaining to do tomorrow, she thought, putting her head down on Scott's shoulder. "Having fun?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," she lied. As they slowly waltzed in a circle she could see Sweets talking to Booth who all but ignored him and kept his eyes on her. The song ended and when they returned to their seats, Sweets rose and asked Dr. Brennan for her hand in the next dance. "How formal!" she said mockingly, but she followed him out onto the dance floor.

Sweets was a surprisingly good dancer for one so young. She told him so. "Oh, my old girlfriend and I took ballroom dancing classes together in college." They chatted about dancing until he suddenly changed the topic, "Tell me, what is the nature of your conflict with Booth?"

She pushed back in his arms and looked carefully at him. Did Booth say something? she wondered. She dismissed the thought quickly. If Booth were to confide in anyone, it would not be Lance Sweets. "I don't know what you mean. There is no conflict."

He laughed harshly, "Dr. Brennan, I am a trained psychiatrist. I can tell when two people are in conflict. And I've know you two long enough to know when you are out of sync. What gives?"

The song ended, and a slower one started. They kept dancing. She decided she had to tell him something. "We haven't been working that closely lately, so we're not simpatico in the same way we were in the past..."

Suddenly Booth was standing next to them on the dance floor. "Looks like you need saving again Bones," he looked at Sweets blankly. "From this guy. May I have this dance?" he said to her with amusement. Sweets took a step back and allowed Booth to take over. Booth swept her in his arms and against his body. Where Sweets was technically a better dancer, Booth moved his body better to the music, swaying perfectly in rhythm with the song. Brennan kept her face averted from him lest she let unwanted emotions show plainly. She felt the entire table watching them, except Scott, thankfully, who was talking to Cam and had his back to the dance floor.

She felt his hand travel lower down her back. "Easy does it," she said breathlessly.

"Sorry," he said, moving his hand back to a respectable position. "I love this song. Do you know it?"

"No."

"It's Jeff Buckley." He swept her further out onto the dance floor singing to her softly, "It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder." He held her tighter against him and she felt the electricity flow between them, felt the hazy circle of desire enveloping them. She laid her head on his shoulder, folding her soft body into his hard one. He continued to sing the lyrics to her quietly, they moved slower and slower until they were hardly moving. She breathed in his scent, the smell of his new suit, and the man underneath. She felt heady and fully alive at the same time. The air around them seemed to still and the crowded dance floor seemed empty as the song ended. Booth released her, holding both her hands, looking deep into her eyes. "Did you hear the last line?" he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Lover, you should have come over. It's not too late." He released one of her hands and led her back to the table. Scott by this time had finally figured out what was going on. His eyes were hurt and confused. Brennan started to say something to him, but Angela swept up to her and grabbed her arm. "Powder room time!" she said brightly. In a daze, she let Angela lead her to the ladies room.

The rest of the night was a blur. By the time she returned to the table, Booth was gone. She walked out with a very quiet Scott and the rest of the group. No one said much of anything. The others drifted away as she and Scott were left on the steps of the hotel, staring at each other awkwardly.

"Temperance," Scott began, "I don't know if you know this or not, but you appear to be in love with your partner." His eyes showed hurt, but there was an understanding there too.

"I..." Brennan tried to find the right words, but none came. The internal struggle she felt made her speechless. She felt herself moving again to the only thing that ever made sense to her: science. "I'm not sure I believe in love." The words sounded hollow and untrue.

"Well, whatever it is, you've got it bad," he said. His expression saddened, "I think this is it for us. Life's too short to be in love with a woman who's in love with someone else. No hard feelings." He leaned in and kissed her chastely on the cheek. He walked away calling out to her over his shoulder, "Carpe Diem, Temperance. Goodbye."

Brennan watched him walk away, feeling relived, but a little sad. He really was such a nice man. Just not for her. She stood on the steps wondering what to do next when she heard Angela call out to her, "Need a ride?" Brennan bounded down the steps to Sweet's car. "Yes, I do," she said breathlessly, getting into the backseat, "but I'm not going home."


	8. Chapter 8

Brennan shut the door of the cab with her foot and stumbled to the front door of her building. She barely made it inside the elevator before she nearly collapsed. As the doors closed, she clutched the evening's program in tight hands as great sobs racked her body. Tears staked themselves on her eyelids threatening a full assault. She tried to hold them back. Her body curled inwards like she'd been punched in the stomach. She felt like she might throw up. She heaved out violent gusts of air willing herself to calm down. Once inside the apartment she collapsed on the couch, not bothering to change out of her dress or take her shoes off.

Her head was squished between two pillows, her hair blocking one eye, but she didn't bother to move it. She focused on the glass of the coffee table and noticed how it reflected the cityscape from the windows. She saw the lint captured in the folds of the couch. She tried closing her eyes to block out the evening's events, but it seemed impossible to keep them closed. They kept popping open. The humiliation fresh and inescapable.

Her face flushed as she thought of how she appeared on Booth's doorstep like an early Christmas present. All tarted up and willing to throw herself at him. She hadn't expected the greeting she got. Cecily, opening the door, smirking at her, Booth marching in from the bedroom, looking guilty. He tried to explain what was going on , but all she saw was Cecily's haughty look of triumph. Brennan couldn't hear anything Booth said to her, the rushing in her ears was so loud, although she did remember he was quite animated and pretty steamed. At her, she wondered? Had she really interrupted Booth with someone else? Those words backstage earlier in the evening were what, she wondered? The words of a horny teenager? Was he just looking for sex and when she wasn't available he took the next best thing, an available blond bombshell? She stormed out after Cecily draped a possessive arm over Booth, cooing something in his ear.

She tried to think of something, anything else. The CD's need rearranging, she thought. Must remember to do that tomorrow. That was her last thought before exhaustion and the evening's turmoil overtook her and she fell fast asleep.

She awoke later to a constant buzzing sound, not sure what it was. My alarm, she thought groggily, then sat up, startled, realizing she was in an evening dress and high heel shoes on the couch. The buzzing was coming from the doorbell. She made her way over to the front door and looked at the entrance way camera to see Booth persistently hitting her buzzer. What does he want now? she said to herself grouchily.

She buzzed him in and stood next to the door waiting. She glanced in the entryway mirror and gasped. She was a fright, makeup smeared, updo in total disarray. She wiped the raccoon paint from under her eyes and shook out her hair. No use compounding the humiliation, she thought. She would make this quick and as painless a possible. Goodbye is only one word. Shouldn't take long to utter.

He knocked softly on the door, and she opened it trying to look calm and professional. "Yes?" she said though gritted teeth, as if he were a pesky neighbor. Booth shoved his hands into his front pockets and looked steadily at her, his expression unreadable.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Wordless, Brennan walked into the living room and sat down on the chair across from the couch. She really wished she had changed clothes. She felt a little too romantically dressed for such an awkward conversation.

Booth followed her and sat on the couch. For the first time she noticed he was still wearing his tuxedo, the tie undone, jacket missing, the sleeves rolled up halfway.

They sat in silence for almost a minute before Booth spoke. "Why did you come to my apartment tonight Temperance?"

Brennan looked at him, one eyebrow arched, "I would have thought that was obvious."

Booth's eyes narrowed slightly. "For sex?" he asked.

"Yes," said Brennan, looking away.

"Is that all?" His voice was taking on a mocking tone she didn't like.

She looked back at him unsmiling. Best to try and sell this, she thought. "Yes. That's all."

She saw his eyes go dark and troubled as he looked away. Suddenly he looked back at her, his expression grim and determined. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he spit out venomously.

"I..." she said. She realized at that moment she had painted herself into a corner. She either admitted everything to him, how she was starting to think this was something beyond pure physical attraction, how upset she had been when she saw Cecily at his apartment, how she thought of him almost every minute of the day. If he rejected her, it would be hard to come back from that, she thought.

Or she could play along, getting whatever little piece of him she could get and hold onto for whatever time he allowed. Her body made the decision for her. She stood, kicking off her heels and padding across the rug to stand in front of him. He looked up at her, his eyes suspicious and full of questions. "I want you," she said huskily. She reached down, picked up his hands and placed them on her hips. With her hands on hers she lifted up the gown exposing her long legs. He looked down at her legs, swallowing hard, then looked back up into her eyes.

"Temperance. I..."

She shushed him, placing a finger on his mouth. "No more talking." She leaned down, her long hair covering him and placed her soft lips against his. The electricity was immediate. Her tongue bypassed his lips and intertwined with his, making them both growl at the same time. She drew her head back slightly, "We're so fierce," she said laughing softly.

"No more talking," he said with a voice thick with passion. He grasped her hips, drawing her down onto the couch to straddle his lap. His hands moved from her hips up her back to her hair. He wrapped his hands in the long tresses and pulled hard, simultaneously drawing her deeper onto his lap and exposing her throat. She ground against him, reveling in his hardness she already felt there. He lavished kisses on her throat and shoulders, kissing softly in some places, nibbling in others, and snipping with his teeth in the most vulnerable spots.

She pulled away momentarily and unzipped the dress. He helped her tug it over her head. Now she was almost completely exposed on his lap, clad only in tiny lace panties and matching bra with him still fully dressed. She slipped a hand inside his shirt to feel his chest, but he swatted her hand away, lifting her up onto her knees till her breasts were even with his mouth. He pulled the bra down and caught one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, a hand reaching up to keep the other one company. She gasped in pleasure, folding over him, hugging his head with her arms. He let go with a resounding pop and moved to the other one. His hands cupped both breasts and he drew them together to suck on both nipples at once. She cried out softly, half embarrassed at almost coming from him simply kissing her breasts.

She disengaged and stood up. "Come."

She led him by the hand to the bedroom, her hips swaying in front of him so gently Booth's mouth watered. She lit a candle while he stood in the doorway watching her. She moved quietly to him and began unbuttoning his shirt. He let her undress him, watching her intently, making no move to disturb her. She slipped his shirt, then his undershirt up over his head. Her hand moved to his belt buckle and she looked up into his eyes, her passion clear. She unbuckled the belt, then slid his pants and boxers down this legs and helped him step out of them. His cock looked thick and ready. She moved to him and they wrapped around each other so tightly they appeared to be trying on the others skin. Their hands roamed, avoiding the hottest spots, afraid of rushing things too quickly like last time. She explored his shoulders and back, his tight ass, and the tops of his strong thighs. Her hands roamed his chest, his taut stomach, her fingers trailing over the six pack bulges. She breathed in his scent, heady and masculine and detected her own muskiness indicating her readiness.

His hands moved to her slim, brown shoulders wandering down her arms to stroke her fingers and the palms of her hands. He moved to her hips, moving his hands around her to cup her ass, drawing her closer to him. Their mouths met again in a wondrous explosion of want and need. She reached down grasping his cock, stroking it up and down, making him suck in his teeth. "Wait. Can't go much further if you keep doing that." He backed her up to the bed. "And there is something I want to do first."

The back of her knees hit the bed and he playfully pushed her down, her legs still dangling over. Kneeling down before her, her spread her legs. She rose up on her elbows and watched him place both hands on either side of her pussy. He leaned in, gently licking the length of her pussy. Her head dropped back, her body vibrating with each slide of his tongue in her slit. He avoided her clit, lavishing all his attention on the soft folds of her opening. His hands came under her ass, squeezing her like a ripe melon, fully eating her out. Her breath became labored, her eyes were rolling back in her head, she could barely stand it anymore. She was so close to orgasm, but she stopped herself, pushing his head away. "I want you in me when I come," she said huskily. She tried to pull him up to her, but he resisted.

"No, I want you to come in my mouth," he said firmly, looking into her eyes, "I have to taste you when you come." He lowered his head and began again. She relaxed and decided his way was a win/win situation. She watched him feast on her, her fingers intertwined in his hair, pushing him further into her, her tide starting to rise. And still he hasn't touched my clitoris, she thought. She reached down to do it herself, and his hands came up and caught hers, pinning them together on her stomach with one hand. "Uh uh," he chided. He looked into her aching eyes, so close to exploding, completely at his mercy. "Is this what you want?" he leaned down brushing her clit with his tongue lightly.

"Oh God," the atheist named Temperance Brennan uttered with complete sincerity.

He licked again. "Again?" he asked. She looked at him furiously, she would not beg for him to continue and yet that was just what he wanted. He held her arms firm, and leaned down close to her pussy again, his eyes locked on hers. Her eyes betrayed her, begging him to continue, to end her agony. "Just say it, Temperance. Just say please."

After a furious moment of her pride battling the sensations in the lower half of her body, she collapsed in need and she surrendered herself to him completely. "Please," she begged, her voice cracking.

He slowly lowered his mouth to her clit, took the whole of it in his mouth and sucked hard, the stiff peak rolling under his tongue. Brennan climaxed, her body nearly ricocheting off the bed, her voice climbing higher and higher as each wave overthrew her. "Oh God, Seeley", she cried, "Oh my God, oh my God." A rhythmic finger replaced his mouth on her clit as his mouth latched onto her opening, his tongue lapped up all her juices as they poured out of her.

He held her in his mouth until she stopped shaking. Crawling up behind her, he gathered her in his arms, rocking her. They stayed like that for a minute, just holding each other gently, rocking back and forth, until her body seemed to recover and she felt a fresh fire of passion kindling. She turned towards him, locking her mouth onto his, wrapping his legs around his torso, her need for him to be inside her burning within her. She rolled on top of him, sitting up. "You were very naughty before," she said with a wicked smile. I don't think you know who you're dealing with." She raised her hips, one hand on the bed beside him, grasped his cock and led it to her opening. His hands went to her hips and he tried to guide her onto his hardness, but she resisted, running his cock up and down her slit, avoiding penetration.

He could feel her wetness coating his cock, allowing him to dip into the shallow end, but then dragging him back out again. He groaned. Over and over she did this, starting at the bottom of her pussy she would slowly slide him along her opening until she reached her clit, then would stop and wiggle his cock back and forth over it, pleasuring herself. Sometimes she would let him dip in, but would guide him out quickly, continuing the same figure 8, all the while stroking his cock firmly and confidently, pushing him further and further over the edge. He tried a few times to force her down on it, but she was strong enough to hold him off. She laughed, saying half-seriously, "Beg."

"Never." He flipped her over with an unexpected ease and held her legs in the crook of his elbows. Her womanhood was now completely exposed. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he guided his cock to her opening, his eyes locked on her. "You are mine," he growled, entering her, pushing up to her hilt, burying himself alive in her. They began to move together slowly, their bodies overwhelmed by the passion created, their rhythm mounting, each one crying out in their turn. Their eyes revealed everything to each other. Their coyness and games exposed for what they were, their undeniable rightness for each other crystal clear.

He shifted back onto his knees, pulling her along with him. He tore into her, his eyes locked on hers, his features tortured but his expression plain to read. He loves me, she thought, her mind and body whirling on an unstoppable rollercoaster of rhythm and want. She raised her hips to his and he grabbed her ass, squeezing her around him, his eyes closing in ecstasy. He pounded into her until she felt herself break free and soar again, crying out in passion again and again, "Seeley! Seeley!" She came over and over, each time her body become more and more in tune with his, their separateness become smaller and smaller until there was no way to tell one from the other. After so many orgasms she lost count, she felt him buck uncontrollably into her, his cock surging into her, his face crushed with the weight of feeling.

"Temp..." He cried out loudly, shuddering into her, her body convulsing with his for a final time. She felt his seed shoot up into her, felt her womanhood open like a flower to take it in. He collapsed onto her, both of them panting and slick with sweat. They laid like that for a long time, still locked in the position of lovemaking, fused together.

In those moments of quiet she came back to herself. She couldn't deny it anymore. As she clung to him, she felt devastated, like a city rampaged, completely undone by this one man. She didn't know what love was, or if it existed, but she knew she had never felt anything remotely close to this before. She shifted him off of her and they lay face to face on the bed, quietly trying to read each others eyes.

She spoke first, "Seeley, what was Cecily doing at your apartment tonight?" The words were wooden and hard to utter.

He sighed. "She just appeared on my doorstep when I got out the car and wouldn't leave. I told her earlier in the day it was over, that there was," he paused looking at her with a cautious expression, "that there was someone else, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. She came in and wouldn't leave until I blew my top. Then you showed up, and I couldn't seem to stop her from trying to destroy the one thing in thing in the world I care about." His eyes searched hers, looking for answers. "She should be an interrogator. She's very persistent."

She smiled wanly. "I wanted to kill her," Brennan replied. "And you, by the way. I thought I had interrupted something."

Booth ran a hand through his hair, breathing out loudly through his mouth, "I knew you were angry," he said shifting onto his back slightly, staring at the ceiling. "I just got caught up trying to be the nice guy. I should have just told her to hit the road."

"Booth. Seeley. There is something I want to ask you."

"Shoot." He picked up her arm, stroking the soft flesh near her wrist.

"Are you in love with me?"

He stopped and put her arm back down. He pushed himself up on an elbow and leaned into her, inches from her face. He took a big breath and spoke, his voice ragged and full of emotion. "Temperance Brennan, I am so in love with you that if you kicked me out right now, I'd simply curl up on your doorstep and die." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you, your obstinacy, your uniqueness, I love the way you bought a gun bigger than you could really handle, I love working with you, eating with you," he paused laughing, "eating you" he moved to her cheeks, kissing softly, "I love your brain, your huge huge heart, your legs" he reached down and squeezed for effect. "There isn't one thing about you I don't love." He stopped suddenly, his eyes growing troubled, feeling like maybe he said too much. "So how do you feel about me?" he asked quietly.

She kept his gaze. "I'm not really sure what to call this thing," she said. "I can't concentrate, I can't eat, you're all I think about, the only person I want to be with. I was so upset at your apartment tonight, I really thought I might die from the feeling. In a four hour period I went from boredom to elation to anger to complete devastation." She felt herself near tears.

"Don't forget more elation at the end."

"Right," she wiped her eyes, laughing. "What is it Seeley? What is this feeling?"

He laughed, drawing her to him, kissing the top of her head. "Temperance, this is love. This is what love feels like."

"Well I don't like it," she said grumpily. "I feel too crazy, too out of control."

He smoothed her hair, holding her gently. "It's not always like this," he said. "Passion fades a bit, then real love kicks in. True, steady love."

She suddenly wiggled out of his embrace. Propping herself up on an elbow, facing him she said, "Seeley Booth. I love you." She tried on the words for size.

"How does that feel to say?' he asked.

"It feels," she said, "very natural. I love you. I am in love with you. I am in love with Seeley Booth."

He laughed. "Stop. You're sounding a little like Rain Man." His hand crossed over to cup a breast, his fingers grazing the nipple. She felt a stirring begin again inside her. He leaned over about to take her mouth into his, but she pulled back.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"I have to remember to change the ending of my book," she said.

"Why?" he began to nuzzle her throat, stealing little kisses up the side.

"Because I killed Andy off in the end."

Booth reared back, his voice shocked with mock indignation, "You did what?"

She laughed, falling into his embrace. "I just thought of a better ending," she said. "I think he just get his legs chopped off by a wood chipper."

"You minx," he said chuckling. "Killing me off like that. Bad girl. You're gonna pay. Starting now." His mouth lowered onto her skin and the torture began again.

^^^Finis^^^


End file.
